Not sure if it was a dream or reality, self-distorted.
Ad Hoc Decay-Part 3
Not sure if it was a dream or reality, self-distorted.
Ad Hoc Decay-Part 2
Like the smile of an addict browning since puberty yellowed by the wear Of service as an accessory,
Ad Hoc Decay-Part 1
Months ago I spilled coffee down the side of my car
I hate the sound of my voice
I hate the sound of my voice. Those inaudible contractions, anchored in the wet depth The fracture of bone.
A Letter To Audrey
With every second that passed, my fists clenched so hard that the blood drained from my knuckles, leaving a white fleshy mess. My throat tightened as I remembered that message left longingly on his IKEA-supported desktop.
Beauty is in the Eyes of the Magazine Beholder
There was nothing natural about her, unless you count the recipes for kelp face masks and brown sugar body scrubs tattooed on the page next to her impeccably constructed face.
The Night Started Out Just Like Any Other
Published here 🙂 Two hours of odd, dark silence. Thank God I’m not stuck in that crevasse between the wall and the bed like her. How can she do that? More importantly, how can she live like this? Lying here is like being in a coffin. This tiny apartment wouldn’t be so bad if it … Continue reading The Night Started Out Just Like Any Other
Mind The Mess On Mondays 